Conditional Surrender
by SomewhereApart
Summary: She knows she wants to spend the rest of her life with Cooper Freedman, but she also knows there's some air to clear first. Spoilers for 3.23 "The End of a Beautiful Friendship"


They're supposed to have dinner (she has a dress hanging in her office, her makeup bag tucked under her desk, along with her completely insensible shoes), so she comes to him just after lunch, closes his blinds and stands in front of his desk. Her belly's a little knotted, but she's been nervy all day. She doesn't think she'll be able to eat a bite tonight if she doesn't get this off her chest now, and she wants the perfect proposal. She wants to be able to tell the story of how she and Cooper get engaged, and have it be romantic and wonderful.

"We need to talk," she tells him, wringing her hands and watching him deflate.

"Don't tell me you changed your mind."

"No." She shakes her head, tries to shrug off the mantle of melancholy she's been carrying since last night long enough to smile a little at him. "No, I'm not changing my mind, but we need to talk about some things. We can't just... do this. We can't just think that getting engaged will fix things."

"We'll fix things," he tells her, and he looks like he means it, but she's just not sure of anything anymore when it comes to him. "I promise."

"I don't trust you," she blurts before she can help it, and she's not sure whether she wishes she could take it back, but it's true, so hell, let's leave it out there. His face falls, his shoulders sag.

"Charlotte."

"How can I, Coop? You've been yankin' me around for months. We take one step forward, and ten steps back. Every time you make a move, you backtrack. I want to believe you're serious about this, but-"

"Believe it," he tells her, pushing his chair back and standing, walking up to her and cupping her hands against her jaw. "I love you. I've never loved anyone like I love you. I've wanted to marry you for a long, long time, and I'm not backing away again. Ever. You're it for me, Charlotte."

Charlotte lets her forehead rest against his, and sighs. She wants to believe him. Want to believe him so bad it hurts, but she's not sure if her heart can take getting her hopes up again and having them dashed. "You broke my heart, Cooper. I know I hurt you too, I know I kept things from you and said my share of hurtful things, but you were just so _mean_."

"I know." He presses his lips to her cheekbones, one and then the other. When he doesn't say anything else, Charlotte lifts her head.

"You know? That's all you have to say?"

"I'm sorry," he corrects, immediately, and she'd have preferred it without the prompting, but at least he's said it. "I was out of line, and I'm sorry. I was taking things out on you that weren't your fault."

Well, that's a new development. She swallows a little, wraps her hands around his wrists. "Things like what?"

He glances behind her, runs his hands to her shoulders, down her arms, then threads their fingers together and leads her to the sofa. He doesn't let go of her hands, even when they're sitting, and then he takes a deep breath before he starts talking. "My parents had another kid before me. A son. And they didn't tell me, for years. When I found out, I was furious. I felt betrayed, and like a replacement, and like they'd kept it from me because they loved him more. I thought I was over it, but then you lied, and... I don't think I was as over it as I thought. And when you told me you'd been married before, all I could think of was..."

He trails off, shakes his head, and Charlotte wishes he'd lead with this a whole lot sooner, because if there's anyone who gets the concept of past ghosts making you act a fool, it's her. She squeezes his hands, bumps her knee against his. "You thought you were a replacement."

"Yeah." He gives her a smile, and it's a little sheepish, a little embarrassed. And a little unsure, she realizes, which needs rectifying. Truth be told, she never said these things enough when they were together, so she decides to give him this. Decides to let herself be open for once.

"You're not. You never were. I put my marriage behind me – as much as I could, anyway. I know I have a lot of crap, a lot of... issues. Trust, and intimacy, and all that, and I know it makes me hard to be with. Once burned, twice shy, right?" She lifts a hand, runs her fingers through his hand and cups the back of his neck, makes sure to look him in the eyes when she tells him: "But loving you was never about anyone else. I was shut down. I thought I'd never find anyone who I could love again – anyone who could love me. And then you came along, and you were relentless. You loved me _relentlessly_, and what could I do but fall? I'm crazy about you Cooper Freedman. Absolutely over-the-moon, looney-bin crazy. Even when I think I shouldn't love you, I do. Sheldon gave me this whole speech about all the things he could give me, all the things I deserved in a man, and he was right. About all of it. And he's a good guy, he deserves a fair shake-"

"He's _Sheldon_," Cooper says, derisively, and Charlotte shakes her head, lets her hand drop.

"Yes. He is Sheldon, and he's my friend, and you're gonna have to get used to that, 'cause it's not going away if I can help it. If I can salvage that friendship, I will, because he's been a damned good support to me the past couple months, and you were right that I don't have much in the way of friends." She links their fingers again, squeezes. "But what I was sayin' – I had a shot at a good man, a man who treats me a lot better than you sometimes do, and I gave it up in a heartbeat. For you. Because I love _you_. You were never a replacement. You were never a second choice. You're the man I love. Plain and simple. Not because of anyone else; just because you're you."

"So let's get married. Let's move on. We can forgive all the things we said, and did, and move on, and build our life together. And I'll be all those things Sheldon said you deserve – I'll to them all twice as well as he ever could."

"I want to. But Cooper, getting married... it doesn't fix things. And it doesn't make it harder to leave, either – just makes it more expensive. If we're gonna do this, if we're really gonna commit, and make this work, we've gotta deal with all our crap. We can't just _decide_ to move on, and think it's all gonna go away, because it won't. It'll stay, and it'll fester, and we'll be screamin' at each other in the conference room again, and goin' all to hell-"

"Then we'll deal with it. However we have to, we'll deal with it. You and I will work this out." He's determined, and it's sweet, and she knows what it's like to have Cooper fiercely determined about something, but she's skeptical whether that's enough this time.

"Cooper, I'm not so sure you and I _can_ work this stuff out. We've tried, and we suck."

"So, what? We give up?"

"No. No, that's not what I'm sayin'. I just think... If we're really gonna make this work, I think we need help. I think..." She shakes her head, let's out a breath, and says, "God, I can't believe I'm sayin' this. We need therapy. We can't do this on our own, we need – I'll say yes, when you ask me, but only if you agree to counseling. Dealing with all this garbage before we take vows."

He tilts his head, looks at her funny, this slow, silly smile spreading across his face, and presses her mouth into a hard line, shakes her head at him. "Don't. Don't you make fun, Cooper."

"I'm not gonna make fun."

"Yes, you are. I can see it all over your face."

"I'm not." He makes an effort to school his face back into something serious, but the smile keeps peeking out. She's torn between pissed, and embarrassed, and smitten, and it's a rather disconcerting combination but one she's not unfamiliar with when it comes to Cooper. "I just never thought that of the two of us, you'd be the one to suggest therapy. You hate therapy."

"I _despise_ therapy," she corrects, and God she does. She's hated every minute of therapy she's ever been in – and she's been in more than she cares to admit (it's part and parcel of rehab, after all, and the anti-anxiety meds that got her through her early twenties couldn't be had without a few months' soul-bearing either). "But I love you. And I love us. And I'll swallow my pride to make this work, because I can't climb aboard a sinking ship, but I can't stand bein' without you either. So I'll say yes, tonight, when you ask. But only on this one condition."

"All you ever had to do was ask," he says, and then he's pulling her in, wrapping his arms around her, and she sinks her weight into him and just breathes. After a minute, he wraps his fingers in her hair, lifts her head and kisses her mouth. "Look at me." She lifts her eyes to his, lets herself wallow in all that blue she loves so much. "I love you. I want to marry you. I will do anything you need to prove to you that we can make this work, and that you can trust me again, and that I'm not going anywhere. Okay? We're back in this, long haul. You and me."

Charlotte nods, takes a deep slow breath. "Okay. We're back in."

He nods, pulls her into another hug, and she lingers just a few minutes before murmuring, "I have patients coming in. I have to get back to work."

She still feels that lead weight around her heart, but it's a little less heavy now, and she trusts that it will ease in time. For now, they'll move forward. Try to deal. Make this work.


End file.
